In the fall of 1950, Vicki Leigh Bayle learned that love and hate are drawn from the same well and that some of the people she loved most kept stores of each in equal measure. In the segregated context of South Florida, she learned that prejudice is not always about color, and that truth, as adults define it, is malleable. During one tragic weekend of violence, Vicki saw that all living beings inexplicably are both good and evil, depending on circumstances. Including herself. She would accept this concept late in life but never truly embrace it.